A Vicious Cylce
by acciowolfsbane
Summary: By God, he didn't have feelings for Rose Weasley. He'd convinced himself of that much. Or had he? A rewrite of a one-shot I wrote a few months back. Based on a song by Bay Faction. Isn't cursed child compliant.


**"** _I started catching feelings for the girl that I'm currently having sex with,_

 _so it's safe to say that we don't talk anymore, unless we're having sex_ **"**

* * *

He was abandoned. Alone in the backseat, he watched the vinyl covering of the seat bulge as he toyed with it, finger slipped into the cracked hole in the material, it becoming taut against his finger's form. It was part of the ritual: sitting in the backseat while Rose climbed to the font, taking her time to make herself look presentable again. They sat in silence, the only noise being the creak of the weathered seats and the muffled chirps of the crickets outside. It was a shame how quiet it had become between the two of them.

Scorpius' eyes flitted around the vehicle, his head raised only enough to be settled against the back of the seat. He met his own gaze in the rear-view mirror, discomfited at his disheveled hair and exhausted eyes. His didn't look long, eyes sliding to the left to meet the woman who sat in his passenger seat. No, woman't wasn't the right word. Was it? She was still just a girl, just like he was still just a boy. Barely graduated and out in the world. He was just a boy...Her just a girl sitting in his car, fixing her make-up.

That's what she was — what she _needed_ to be.

Just a girl he was having sex with. Nothing less, nothing more.

That's what he'd convinced himself.

But he couldn't take his eyes off her. Rose was so pretty, magnetic. Even as she sat there, covering up the bruises he'd left on her fair skin with his mouth. He didn't want her to hide them, but due to her still living at home and under the eye of _extremely_ involved parents, it was something she had to due to keep from being snarled at. That didn't stop his stomach from knotting up with disappointment and discomfort. He was making himself upset.

Scorpius decided to focus on how she fixed her lipstick, the streetlamps outside offering a warm glow to her freckled skin. His gaze traced the curls of her red hair, creating a complex winding around her ears and neck. God, she was beautiful.

With a loud snap from the visor mirror, he was brought back to reality. Tearing his eyes from rose and the soft pink shirt that hung off her shoulders, he began to search for his own shirt. He leaned forward to retrieve it from his floorboard, the skin of his back separating from the seat with an uncomfortable tug. With a quick shake of it, he turned the shirt right side out, lazily pulling it over his head. There was a short struggle to get his arm through the sleeve, eliciting a agitated grunt from the boy. He made sure his pants were done up and combed a hand through his hair with a sigh. After taking that moment to breath, Scorpius clambered over the middle console and into the driver's seat.

The car was a piece of shit, he'd admit that. It was old, but it was cheap. It ran well enough, but was ugly as all hell. The exterior was a faded and dying blue — dents and scrapes and rust littering the body. The inside wasn't too bad, though. He kept it clean enough. There was no need to really fix any of it, as he an Albus were the only ones even in the damn thing long enough to possibly care about those problems. And neither of them did.

So the car was _okay_. The only true problem he had with it was that the backseat was small and made sex fairly difficult. Rose never said anything, so he figured those was no need to worry. It was the only place they could do it anyway.

None of this had been planed. Sure, it had been a familiar, and common, fantasy, but never in his wildest dreams did Scorpius Malfoy think he'd regularly be shagging Rose Weasley in the backseat of a shitty old car. But he wasn't going to complain.

Their first time had been a drunken mess. They'd been at Al's, getting a little buzzed on 'borrowed' Firewhiskey while his parents had been out. Rose was supposed to be staying with Lily that night, but was with the two of them instead. All Scorpius could remember was ditching Albus to show Rose the car (which had been 'brand new' to him), and then through a fuzzy string of events he had his face pressed into her neck, gasping for air as her hands loosened from his hair. Everything past that was just fuzzy again.

But it eventually became a regular thing, and they started becoming less and less drunk whenever it happened. This inevitably lead them down the road of catching feelings. Well, of _Scorpius_ catching feelings.

The fool had said he loved her one night, about two weeks after they'd graduated. The pair had gotten tipsy again, which allowed Scorpius to pass it off as being nothing but drunken mumbling; that he was just caught up in what was happening and it wasn't meant to come out. Things got quiet between them after that. They still saw each other regularly, but only ever talked when they had sex. He blamed it on the stress of trying to find out what they were going to do with their lives. Rose had been busy applying for some prestigious Healer's program through St. Mungo's and Scorpius was...Well, Scorpius had no idea what he was fucking doing. So he was busy with that, he supposed. He had wallowed in his disappointed and embarrassment of what he had said, however, which lead to him convincing himself that it really had been an accident.

He didn't have feelings for Rose Weasley.

By God, he didn't have feelings for Rose fucking Weasley. Even as she looked over at him from the passenger seat, face still bright and shining from a post-orgasm glow that he loved so much. He was so focused on her red-tinted cheeks that he barely heard her utter a soft "see you next time" before she had moved to get out of the car. She paused, turning back and leaned over the console between them to press a light kiss to Scorpius' lips. That left him more than a little surprised, stuck sitting there and watching her slip out of the car, the door shutting with a soft click.

She looked around before disappearing with a crack, leaving him alone again in the car with nothing but the street lamps and the crickets. He gripped the steering wheel hard, knuckles turning white. He leaned forward to let his forehead rest between his hands. Damn his feelings. _Damn them to hell_.

He hadn't convinced himself of shit.

His chest rattled with a familiar, tight pain that he knew would only get worse as the night went on. A goddamn tragedy that was. It was a Tuesday night, but Scorpius was going to get wasted like it was Friday. Something he'd regret in the morning. The only thing that made it was that he knew, he fucking knew that this same thing was going to happen next week, and the week after that, and the week after that. He was stuck in a vicious cycle and was absolutely petrified.


End file.
